Steamed Hams Except Skinner Dies at the End of Infinity War
by Allen Pierce
Summary: Infinity War spoilers ahead, you know, for the five of you who haven't seen the movie yet. When Thanos wipes out half of all life, it affects Springfield as well. Chalmers has to deal with the fallout.


"You should . . . have aimed . . . for the head!" said Thanos, grinning in spite of the tremendous pain from having Stormbreaker driven into his chest.

Thor, burdened with the terrible knowledge of what was to come—and that he had allowed it to happen, and could no longer do anything to stop it—still reached out.

* * *

 _Ski-hih-ner dies when Thanos snaps his fingers_

 _The superintendent's gonna have to reconsider_

 _If he still wants to live or pull the trigger_

 _When a gun's in his mouth tonight!_

* * *

"Seeeeeeymooooour!" Chalmers bellowed upon entering Seymour's kitchen. That whole afternoon, Seymour had been even cagier than usual. Chalmers suspected something was amiss, and based on the sudden guilty look upon Seymour's face when he opened the door, Chalmers was certain that his instincts had been correct.

"Ah, Superintendent!" said Seymour. "I was just . . . stretching my calves! On the windowsill! Care to join me?"

In the silence that followed, Chalmers was ready to express his doubt as to that being the reason that Seymour's foot was on the windowsill. But then he noticed an unfamiliar look on his friend's face. A look of equal parts panic and confusion.

Was it remorse? No. Chalmers knew, somehow, that it was an indication of far greater trouble.

"I believe . . . the sudden exertion has . . . left me lightheaded." He fell to the floor and tried to regain his composure. "I'll just . . . sit down for a moment."

"Do you need anything? Are you all right?"

"I . . . don't feel so well. . . ." said Seymour.

"Why is there smoke coming from your body, Seymour?"

"That isn't smoke," Seymour replied, watching as his left arm faded away. The rest of him soon followed.

Chalmers fell to his knees and wept. "Good Lord, what is happening in here!"

* * *

A loaded gun rested on Chalmers' nightstand. He had been holding it moments earlier.

"Not yet, old friend," he said, slipping an arm into his coat as he stepped through the door.

* * *

Attendance was low at the funeral. It was far from the only funeral that day, and everybody had somebody to mourn. Everybody, save Chalmers' other good friend Disco Stu, who had never cared much for anyone else in town. He tolerated most of them well enough, but Chalmers was his only true friend in Springfield. He came to Seymour's funeral, but only for emotional support.

 _I don't know what you ever saw in that square,_ thought Stu, watching as Chalmers struggled to maintain his composure. "Just let it all out my man. You'll feel better."

Some time passed, Chalmers crying, Stu watching. Arnie Pye was there, but only because he had slipped away in the middle of Kent Brockman's funeral while no one was paying attention and needed a place to sit.

"You know," Chalmers finally began, "he was an odd fellow, but . . ."

 _But what?_ What else was there to say? Words failed him.

He looked around at the handful of people in attendance, and decided to give a eulogy. No one else was going to, and he couldn't think of anyone better for the job.

Standing there in front of what could in only the most generous sense be called a crowd, he racked his brain for something to say about his friend. The phrase "He steamed a good ham" echoed in his mind, devoid of any apparent meaning; like a phrase in a foreign language, unlearned yet imprinted through sheer repetition. He wondered if it was the voice of God.

* * *

Seymour's mother Agnes died too, when the house burned down, but nobody cared.

Oh and also Thanos made sure to leave the real Seymour Skinner alive, killing Armin Tamzarian instead. It was the one exception to his whole "dispassionate and random" justification. At some point he used the Time Stone to look into the future and saw what would happen to the real Skinner when he came back to Springfield, and he thought it was a great injustice. Not the greatest injustice of all time or the greatest one he had ever witnessed or anything, but as he was snapping his fingers to wipe out half of all sentient life he remembered the whole affair and thought _Oh yeah, fuck Armin Tamzarian. This aughta settle his hash good._


End file.
